


some things cannot be unstirred

by saem



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: ???? kind of?????, Comfort, Drabble, Gen, Other, Polyamory, cluster feelings drabble, will's thoughts on being part of a cluster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 17:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4109305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saem/pseuds/saem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonas told Will they were a ‘cluster’, but sometimes it feels more like a circle, a cycle, all their minds overlapping and forming similar patterns like ripples in a pond.</p>
<p>(Will ruminates on being part of the cluster and what that means for them)</p>
            </blockquote>





	some things cannot be unstirred

Jonas told Will they were a ‘cluster’, but sometimes it feels more like a circle, a cycle, all their minds overlapping and forming similar patterns like ripples in a pond.

Sun, in a cold solitary hole, dragging her toe along the ground and then swinging her leg upwards in a spinning kick; striking the air, her brother, her father.

Kala in the laboratory, swirling chemicals inside an Erlenmeyer flask and observing the reaction when two unique elements meet.

Wolfgang, his forehead beaded with sweat, slowly turning the dial on another safe, listening to the tiniest of metal clicks, trying to decode the combination.

Riley working in another dark club, her hands spinning and stopping the discs in a perfect rhythm to make the crowd bump and sway.

Capheus taking a corner in the Van Damme a little too roughly, and swerving the steering wheel to correct himself, while Jela yells at him.

Nomi in bed with Neets, one arm draped over her shoulder as she uses the bed sheet to clean her glasses, rubbing small circles with her thumb.

Lito warming up before a take, shouting his vocal exercises and swinging his arms in big turns, his stomach tightening with the familiar nervousness.

And so Will is wiping the shower fog from his bathroom mirror when he feels his arm fall into a predetermined path—creating the circle of the Erlenmeyer flask, the spin kick, the swing, the delicate twist of the combination dial. He rides out the wave, wipes down the glass to see eight different people staring back at him. He is not frightened. He feels warm.

Things like this, the patterns, they’re not so intense as the other cluster experiences, like feelings of fear or love or rage. It’s more like a routine that they’ve all picked up from each other and formed into habits. 

Lito says it’s like playing an old character, slipping into the role like it’s an old coat that still fits.You just know where all the pockets are and where that old hole is. You don’t have to think about it. There’s a psychic flutter over being collectively referred to as an ‘old coat’, but it’s all in good fun. They know, more than anyone else, exactly what Lito means.

He means he can’t remember how he lived without this old coat.

Jonas told Will it was evolution that made them this way, and Angelica who connected them. It gives him goosebumps to remember that night they saw her die, and shivers to think about what would have happened if they hadn’t. The thought passes through him and then the rest of the cluster and they share a wave of fear. Scary to imagine. 

That they might have lived disconnected from each other is a reality Will doesn’t like to consider.

Because now he takes his morning coffee with eight different tastes in one sip, he speaks Hindi when he orders takeout from the Indian restaurant, he volunteers at the humane society so that Sun doesn’t have to miss her dog so much. His entire life is more than it once was. Probably more than it ever could have been.

So maybe they are being hunted, and maybe some people want to hurt them, and maybe it is dangerous to be what they are. 

But they are. 

And so they will continue to be.

Maybe once they were eight different people. But they have long since been stirred and mixed together like chemicals forming a solution. Separation is no longer an option—some things may not be unstirred.

And thank God (and Ganesh) for that.

**Author's Note:**

> my first sense8 fic(let)!
> 
> hit me up at wylfgang on tumblr and talk to me about sense8!!!!! or leave a comment if u enjoyed


End file.
